Three Gunshot Wounds Later
by StarlitWave10
Summary: A little change-up to the events in the episode "CSI Down."


One week.

That was how long it had been since the kidnapping.

Since he'd thought she was dead.

Since that…that _bitch_ had gotten Morgan kidnapped.

Greg clenched his fists at his sides as he stared through the glass into the filled hospital bed. Morgan had been fine for a moment, at least while the adrenaline had still been coursing through her. Greg had run over as soon as she'd finished hugging her dad. She'd given him a playful smirk, one that he never tired of seeing. Her blonde hair whipped around her face from the harsh wind. Her bright red lips parted to show her teeth as she grinned at Greg's relieved expression.

That was when it all went to hell.

Shots rang out. From where, Greg wasn't sure. From whom, he didn't know, either. But that wasn't what scared him. What absolutely _terrified_ him was that Morgan had been smiling up at him, relieved and happy, and then she was on the ground, teeth grinding together in pain as a red the same color as her lips drooled out of her arm.

Greg threw himself onto the ground next to her, taking out his gun and waving it around, his eyes attempting to search through the sand that had previously been located solely on the ground, but the wind seemed to have picked up along with the pace of his own beating heart.

"You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be fine." _We can't lose her, we just got her back…_I _can't lose her. Morgan, please, _

"Stay awake! C'mon, Morgan, don't tell me this is boring you!" Greg barely registered the fact that he was shouting as his gun exploded in his hand multiple times. He could barely hear DB shouting something- _at me? At Conrad? At the shooters_- somewhere off on his left side. When he looked back down at Morgan, he almost dropped the gun in shock.

There was blood on her head.

She was gasping, breathing and choking from the sand. Greg threw all thoughts of his own safety aside and picked up the wounded young woman. Despite his thin stature, Greg was quite strong, and carrying Morgan was not much of a challenge. Her weight was not on his mind, however, as he ran in the general direction of where he remembered his car was. This time he distinctly heard Conrad's voice calling _his_ name, but he ignored it, worrying only about how long it would take him to drive out of the desert and into the hospital in this weather.

The next thing he felt was pain. An immense fire burning in his leg, stronger than the one he'd felt back in the lab all those years ago. Back then the fire had been in his back-he'd been very grateful it hadn't scarred his pretty face. But now it was devouring his entire leg, a million knives boiled in hot water and stabbed specifically into the same spot on his lower body. Greg stole a glance toward Morgan. He'd dropped her when he fell, and just now he registered that his sunglasses had slipped off of his face. Sand was burying itself in his eyes and he forced himself to go blind for a moment, to lose sight of the most beautiful creature on Earth.

DB's voice was echoing in his ear and Greg heard himself grunt out monosyllabic answers. He felt himself being moved, and bit his lip to keep from screaming in frustration. Greg forced himself to open his eyes. He simply _had_ to keep watch after Morgan, _had_ to make sure she was okay. After all, who knows what could've happened while he'd taken his eyes off of her?

She wasn't there.

Greg's eyes flew around the desert, finally coming to land upon a blond head being carried by a vanishing shadow of black. He opened his mouth to shout a warning, to scream her name, anything, but he felt DB's hand on his shoulder and his calm voice in his ear again.

"It's okay…Conrad's got her…must get you…hospital." Though he tried, Greg couldn't completely relax under DB's strong grip on his shoulder. Greg thought DB was holding on to try and keep Greg from running away, and had the situation not been what is was, Greg might have laughed at the ridiculousness. Of course, that may have been the pain going to his mind as well, but Greg at that moment believed himself to be thinking fairly lucidly.

The young man felt himself being picked up and jerked in surprise, accidentally moving his wounded leg. The pain shot up through his leg again, but this time he couldn't control the agonized yelp that flew out of his mouth.

"You're gonna be okay…you're gonna be fine." As Greg heard his own words echoed to him by his supervisor, his vision began to fade and his eyes closed of their own accord. The last thing his pain-filled mind registered was the hope that Morgan was still alive.

Greg resisted the urge to slam the glass as the flashback rocked his memory. One week had passed and he was still in the hospital, still on those _damn crutches_ that made it extremely uncomfortable to walk, but walk he did. Every day, he hobbled over to Morgan's room, every day hopeful that today was the day she would wake up, would grin at him with those full, cherry red lips. But today crushed his hopes just like every other day: Morgan's eyes were still closed.

He sighed and prepared to shuffle back to his room. As he painstakingly turned his crutches to face the hallway rather than the room, his glanced back one more time…

And almost fell over. Morgan's eyelids fluttered, and he felt like dropping his crutches and scrambling to her side. Unfortunately, he ended up having to do his awkward hobble to get her bedside. Even so, his face was alight in a grin that screamed joy, relief, and utter ecstasy all in one.

Morgan placed her hand to her forehead and groaned before opening her eyes, as if she had never used them before. But as soon as they landed on Greg, they seemed to remember exactly how to work and widened, taking in every inch of his excited appearance. Morgan's lips curved and she giggled as Greg attempted to sit down without stepping on his injured leg.

"Hey…" For such an excited look, Greg's voice was soft and Morgan could barely hear the word.

"Hey yourself," she responded. She brought her hand back to her forehead.

"What happened," she asked. "I remember coming out of the helicopter…that stupid sandstorm…and I remember…" she trailed off, looking at Greg for help.

He gently took her hand and began stroking it with his thumb. "A bullet grazed your head. Nothing too serious, but that and the wound in your arm kept you out for a week." Morgan's eyes widened at the sight of her left arm heavily bandaged.

"Damn…that's gonna hurt in the morning." Greg chuckled. He still hadn't let go of her hand.

"At least you can walk." She laughed as Greg tried to lift his crutches to emphasize his point, but only succeeded in pushing them onto the floor.

He looked back, his grin softening. "I'm really glad you're okay, Morgan. When those shots began, I thought..." She squeezed his hand. "I'm okay, Greg. And you're okay. That's all that matters."

Greg leaned in slightly as Morgan closed her eyes. He closed his own as he felt his lips touch Morgan's. A jolt of electricity seemed to run through his body and he felt like he could jump for joy. As they pulled away, neither could stop themselves from grinning.

**I don't own CSI. **

**Read if you want, review if you choose! I have mixed feelings about this piece, but I'm not sure what else to change/screw up, so I hope you enjoyed it! :D**


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